By Rochelle Odell

Sad to say, but I am entering my 30th year battling the monster called Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD), also known as Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). After three decades, I just call it by both names: RSD/CRPS

It was bad enough when the disease was triggered when I was 46. I had made a career change from aerospace to nursing, and moved out of California to take a new job not too far above minimum wage as a Critical Care Tech. After being a volunteer EMT, it was my dream to become an RN or trauma nurse.  So, I trekked to Georgia to start reaching for my dream.

My left heel was most unhappy with all the walking. I had a lifetime award for medical due to a work comp knee injury, which caused an abnormal gait and the heel pain.

After six months, plus physical therapy, I had a knee arthroscopy. The surgeon was also supposed to remove a painful heel spur, but didn’t. Instead, he accidentally severed a nerve in my left heel, immediately triggering what was then called RSD.

In less than five years, the monster spread to all four of my extremities. I had every therapy, blocks, multiple implants and other procedures, but all ultimately failed.

Back to California I trekked with unexplained, unimaginable pain. I had no job, no insurance except for work comp, and was alone -- questioning my sanity about the career change.

I was eventually placed on a medication only regimen, and for over 16 years was on high dose opioids, along with high dose Diazepam, high dose Lidocaine, and three other meds. Funny thing was, I did very well with them.

Was my pain gone? With RDS/CRPS? No, but it was controlled to the point where I could function. I drove, took good care of my small home, and remained active despite the severity of my disease.

Fast forward to 2016. Those of us suffering from unrelenting intractable pain remember all too well what began that year. Thank you, CDC. All my meds stopped suddenly, but I had no idea why until 2017. A new life of hell began. I didn’t leave the house and was mostly bedbound, only getting up to let my very worried little dog outside, or for a trip to the bathroom or kitchen. Showers? What was that? Just going to the bathroom completely drained me. Thank heaven for adult wash cloths.

I discovered online shopping, thankfully, so we survived. I had no family where I now lived and felt frightened and frustrated. It was like my world had ended. I no longer trusted any doctor or nurse, because most were condescending and uncaring, which really saddened me. I gave up an excellent career in aerospace to go into a profession to care for others, nursing. What happened to those people?

In 2018, I returned to pain management and was placed initially on low dose Norco.  By then my pain was out of control and I knew this would be a new era when it came to pain management. I also knew I was very lucky to have found a provider who would prescribe any opioid. My dose was slowly titrated up, although it was still only a third of what it used to be. I also became a palliative care patient.

I have learned to make my medications work for me, using less on tolerable days and more on bad days, ever cautious about running out early.  I learned, or rather adapted, to finding new ways to do my yard and housework. The last five years I decorated for Christmas like I never used to and began inviting friends over for holiday meals. I became active in my homeowner’s association and was elected vice president. It’s a large senior community with over 1,000 homes.

Have I paid the price for my new endeavors? You bet, big time, for several days at a time. But I did not give in to the pain.

I had a wonderful holiday thanks to sweet friends, and had two pain friends over on New Year’s Day for black eyed peas. One brought her husband. The other recently lost her husband, so she brought her son.

What’s the point of my 30-year story? To share that life does not have to end due to unrelenting pain. Yes, we have to fight far too many battles and no one should be suffering like we do. I decided not to let my nightmare consume me and refused to let it destroy what life I have left.

I am now 76. At this moment my left foot and leg are throbbing, and my whole spine feels electrified. Pain management ordered a full spine MRI to rule out arachnoiditis and the myriad of other problems already diagnosed. My left hand and arm feel like they’re on fire, but I know that when I finish this column, it’ll be time for my meds and some relief.

I want all my pain friends to stand up to your pain even when you feel you are at your wits end. Resurrect the fighter in you. Call a friend or have one over for tea or hot chocolate with this cold winter. You can do it! Tell your pain where to go, please, for you!

Rochelle Odell lives in California.

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